


Travels in Time

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 3rd Age - The Stewards, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2003-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-28 17:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3862862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Girl travels back in time to Middle-earth. Girl falls in love with Denethor. Her research project goes horribly awry. <i>Not</i> a parody, believe it or not. Response to HASA Mary-Sue challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The White Tree

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

Silently, Lisette made her way across the courtyard, trying to ignore the slight tingle in her spine. Casting a hurried glance back, she quickened her pace. She really shouldn't be worried. It was not as though she was out to commit some heinous crime; she just wanted to make some tiny observations. Stopping in front of the wilted tree, she looked around again. No one was there. _Good,_ she thought. _Time to start gathering samples._

She made a vague gesture to reach for her bag, but hesitated. It was silly, but she simply couldn't shake the feeling that this tree was... sacred, somehow. Untouchable. An idea like that was preposterous, and the logical part of her brain pounced on her immediately. _What woman in her right mind would let herself be intimidated by a tree? And a dead tree, no less!_ Besides, she had no intention of harming it. This was purely for research purposes. In fact, this was something she should have done in the beginning, if only she hadn't procrastinated.

She sighed. _If my teachers could see me now!_ she thought despairingly.Whatever happened to her carefully thought-out plan? The one she was sure she could follow? She was supposed to gather information on the wildlife in this era first, researching the animal and plant-life. Then, she would move on to study the people of this era, making notes of their customs, their culture, and their language. It wasn't supposed to be particularly difficult. Almost any graduate student with the money could undertake such a research project.

However, her project was a bit more unorthodox. Most people preferred to travel no further back than the 21st century, mostly because they feared the lack of comfort that came with earlier times. But she was not daunted by that fact. She was fully prepared to endure less-than-ideal conditions, if it meant that her project would at least be different from the thousands of others that had been done before. But what she wasn't prepared for was this city... this country. Gondor.

It should have been easy to play the impartial observer, looking at the past with a superiority that could only come with hindsight. After all, were not the people of the future more enlightened? She should have been able to impart some wisdom to these people, as long as she took care not to give away the source of her knowledge, of course. Yet, the more she allowed herself to be immersed in their culture, the more she felt that she knew nothing at all.

She paused in her thoughts as a shadow fell across her view.

"Nellas."

She started at the usage of her "new" name and stood up immediately. Despite the months she'd had to get accustomed to it, she was always terrified that she would slip up somehow, forgetting to respond to it. Resisting the instinct to run, she turned around stiffly. A pair of keen grey eyes greeted her, and she froze. A million different excuses for her presence were thought up and dismissed, as she tried to remain calm.

"Is anything the matter?" he asked, fixing his gaze on her, his voice not completely devoid of suspicion.

"No, no. Nothing at all, lord Denethor," she managed feebly, her voice squeaking a little. She winced. There were times when she truly despised this man, and this was definitely one of them. She hated being caught off-guard, and she had the distinct feeling that he was reading far more into her thoughts than she would have liked. For one crazy moment, she contemplated the merits of making herself a hat out of tinfoil, as so many characters from those ancient movies did to prevent hostile aliens from reading their thoughts. Not that she thought of Denethor as a mind-reading alien, but it was really quite unnerving the way he seemed to know... well, everything.

"Well, I suppose I should be leaving now. Good night." Faking a yawn, she quickly rushed past Denethor, not caring that her hasty exit would likely make her appear more suspicious. She thought that she heard a surprised laugh behind her, but she paid it no heed. _Laugh all you want,_ she thought. _One more month, and I'll be going home. Then you can go back to tormenting the other servants while I get a well-deserved "A" for my project._

But that wasn't fair. It was not entirely true that the lord Denethor enjoyed tormenting the servants. More often than not, he was too busy to even notice them. There were occasions, however, when there was no other explanation to his behaviour other than that he wanted them to suffer. _At least, that's how it seemed to me,_ thought Lisette.

"There is nothing quite as dangerous as a bored Steward's heir, if you ask me," one of the older ladies had once remarked when Lisette complained of his tendency to turn up at the most inopportune times. "He _does_ have the foresight of his Numénorean ancestors, you know. He can probably sense when one of us will make a ghastly mistake, and arrange for his presence there at that precise moment."

"Alas!" had been her only response to that statement, and it seemed quite appropriate for this occasion as well. Well, look on the bright side, she thought. At least he didn't catch me doing anything to the tree. Yawning for real this time, she entered her sleeping chambers, and fell exhausted onto her bed. _Maybe next time I'll have better luck. And procrastinate less._


	2. Books

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Girl travels back in time to Middle-earth. Girl falls in love with Denethor. Her research project goes horribly awry. _Not_ a parody, believe it or not. Response to HASA Mary-Sue challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've edited the first chapter to reflect the updated name of my OFC. If you're confused, her "modern" name is Lisette, and her Middle-earth name is Nellas.

**Note:** I've edited the first chapter to reflect the updated name of my OFC. If you're confused, her "modern" name is Lisette, and her Middle-earth name is Nellas.  


* * *

  
"Nellas?"

Silence.

"Nellas!"

"Hmm? Oh! I'm sorry!" Lisette looked up guiltily, and tried to appear contrite. Collecting herself as best she could, she continued. "My apologies, lady Mírwen. If you would perhaps repeat what you've just said, I would more than happy to do your bidding."

Mírwen sighed in an exasperated manner, and shook her head. "Thankfully, this is not a difficult task, even for your wandering mind," she said, eventually smiling. "Simply fetch me my book from that insolent brother of mine, and give him a swift kick for neglecting to return it to me. Be sure to hurry, for he is expected at a council soon."

"Yes, my lady." With that, Lisette scurried out of the room. It was not until the door was shut behind her that she realized exactly what she'd been sent out to do. She had to fetch something from lady Mírwen's brother. Denethor. The man she'd been hoping to avoid for at least a week, lest he question her further on the Tree Incident. Resigning herself to her misfortune, she walked to Denethor's room with her shoulders slumped, and knocked on the door.

Absent-mindedly, she shuffled her feet as she waited for him to appear. Minutes passed. She was almost tempted to look at her watch, before she remembered that she no longer had one. _What could be taking him so long?_ she wondered. It was not as though she looked forward to this meeting, but waiting certainly did nothing to soothe her frazzled nerves.

"Who is it?!"

Lisette jumped back in surprise at the sound of Denethor's angry voice. Looking up, she blinked and stared at him with widened eyes. Although he was frowning, his features seemed almost softer, somehow. His eyes, normally piercing and focused, no longer held that intimidating edge to them. And was it just her imagination, or was his hair... slightly ruffled? Not to imply that the Denethor, son of Ecthelion, did not look presentable at the moment, but it was clear that his appearance was not as immaculate as it usually was.

"My lord?" she inquired lightly.

"Ah. It's you," he remarked as he recognized her. "So, I take it Mírwen has sent you on a direly urgent errand that simply could not wait until a later hour?"

"I did not mean to disturb you, my lord. I should have known you'd be busy preparing for that council today," said Lisette, fiddling nervously with her hair. "But lady Mírwen asked that I find you before you left."

"Council?"

Lisette's head jerked up at the question, and she looked at Denethor again. There was something resembling genuine confusion in his eyes, though he quickly masked it.

"Yes...?" she offered tentatively as she took a closer look at him. Ruffled hair, an almost relaxed demeanor... Could it be--? No. It was unheard of that Denethor could possibly forget about a council. His punctuality was well-known amongst the people in the city - legendary even. Lisette could recall several occasions when his sister even teased him about it. It was far more likely that he was just tired - too much work, probably.

"Do you not remember it, my lord?" she asked lightly.

"Of course I do," he responded almost immediately, but the brief pause before his answer told her everything she needed to know. But before she could feel smug for actually catching Denethor off-guard, he spoke again, having recovered his composure. "I was merely surprised that you would know of it. At any rate, it matters not." He paused as he regarded her carefully. "What is it that Mírwen would ask of me?"

"The lady Mírwen requests that you return her book today, if possible," answered Lisette. _Wow. Fast recovery. Impressive._

"Ah, yes, of course." He nodded and stepped back, holding the door open. "Come in."

The room was unusually quiet and dark. Looking around, Lisette's eyes were immediately drawn to the impressive bookshelf on her left. She sighed wistfully. It wasn't fair. If only she could read them! She had spent years learning the ancient English language that she expected these people to speak, only to find that with a few exceptions, no one actually used this language much. Not in Gondor, anyway. From what Lisette could tell, the Rohirrim were the only ones who spoke the language. At least, that was what she assumed given that everyone thought she came from Rohan.

"I see you are fond of books, Nellas."

"Aye, though I can only read and write in Rohirric," she replied, surprised by the observation. _Since when did he care about my interests?_ she wondered.

"Hmm. I recently acquired a rare book of Rohirric verses. Not many of them are ever recorded, but this touches a topic close to their hearts, and was written by a young bard. Would you be interested in this?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Me? Do you mean it?"

"I do not particularly care for the writing in the book," he replied, waving her question off. "As long as father does not find out about this, I see no harm in it."

Lisette hesitated. She hadn't lived her entire life under a stone, and she knew to beware of anything that was too good to be true. _Caveat Emptor, as the ancient cultures liked to say,_ she mused idly. _But does this really count, if I'm not technically buying anything?_ Letting her eyes roam over the books on the shelf, she tried to search for a more appropriate Latin term.

"I must say, Nellas," said Denethor suddenly, interrupting her thoughts. "I did not believe Mírwen when she commented on your often-absent mind... but now I am beginning to think that I was perhaps too hasty in that judgment."

Lisette tried her best not to look offended. _What? Absent-minded! It's hardly my fault that I need to keep track of a research paper on top of this thankless job._ She almost pouted. _Well, Mírwen can think what she wants,_ she thought indignantly. _At least Denethor doesn't think I'm a complete air-head._ She paused, blinking as the last thought registered in her mind. _Was that a compliment? From Denethor?_ Quickly shaking her head, she dismissed the thought.

"Well? Does the book interest you?" asked Denethor, who looked somewhat amused.

"Yes." She decided that a one-word answer would suffice. _Brevity is the soul of wit, and all that... Not that I care much about appearing witty,_ she added silently.

"Very good."

Pleased with her response, Denethor promptly handed her the two books and ushered her out of the room. Almost in a daze, she headed back to Mírwen's room. She tried her best not to think about the book she was just given, knowing that she would be unable to concentrate on work for the rest of the day if she did.

"Nellas! Why were you delayed for so long?"

Lisette stopped dead in her tracks, and stared ahead. "My lady? You were waiting for me?"

"Of course! I would not have sent you so early in the morning if the book was of no importance to me, now would I?"

"I'm sorry," she said. An awkward pause. "What is this book about?" she finally asked, letting curiosity get the better of her.

For a few moments, Mírwen was unable to come up with an answer. "Plants," she finally said, looking a bit embarrassed.

How exciting, thought Lisette wryly.

"But never mind that, my dear Nellas. Denethor did not make this difficult for you, did he? I know that he can be troublesome when he is woken from his sleep."

"Oh, not at all, my lady," protested Lisette. "After all, he was already awake - no doubt preparing for the council."

Mírwen raised an eyebrow at her response, but was content to let the subject drop, for which Lisette was very grateful. She wasn't sure why she felt compelled to defend Denethor, but it seemed only appropriate, after his show of generosity. The rest of the day passed uneventfully, and although Lisette was preoccupied with thoughts of her new book, she completed her duties competently.

By the time she arrived in her room at the end of the day, she was brimming with excitement. _This is going to be great! Not only will I be able to report on the cultures of Gondor, I'll be able to report on Rohirric culture as well!_ She was sure to find insightful poetry on their culture, their customs, and even their everyday lives!

With trembling fingers, she opened the book. Her jaw dropped. An entire book of poetry dedicated to... horses?!

**To Be Continued...**


	3. An Unexpected Day Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Girl travels back in time to Middle-earth. Girl falls in love with Denethor. Her research project goes horribly awry. _Not_ a parody, believe it or not. Response to HASA Mary-Sue challenge.

Lisette wandered the halls aimlessly. In a surprising show of compassion, the Stewards gave the servants a rare day off. Most of her friends had already left to do shopping, or visit family, taking full advantage of this small "vacation." Lisette, however, found herself strangely unwilling to leave with them. She was reluctant to admit it, but she was morbidly curious to see how such a large household could function without any help; and if she just happened to be there when all hell broke loose... well, she would permit herself a few chuckles at their lack of foresight.

It was still early morning, so nothing notable happened yet. She was tempted to lock herself in her room and just read the Rohirric poetry book for awhile, but she could only tolerate so many odes to horses. She wondered if the Rohirrim treated horses like the ancient Egyptians treated cats. It certainly seemed so from the book she read, though they can't possibly be as fervent as the Egyptians. She had yet to read a poem that mentioned any shrines dedicated to horse gods or goddesses.

Lisette paused in front of Mírwen's room. Perhaps if she wasn't busy, Lisette could intrude and ask a few questions about Gondor. After all, Lady Mírwen had always been accomodating about her curiosity before. Lisette raised her hand to knock on the door--

"Stop pestering me with questions, Denethor! Have you any idea how early it is?" Mírwen sounded irritated.

Lisette's hand stopped in mid-air. She looked around guiltily, then pressed her ear to the door and listened in.

"Ah, so not even you are thrilled about early-morning intrusions, dear sister?" Denethor, on the other hand, sounded perfectly awake, and even... perky? No. The word 'perky' and Denethor should never be said in the same sentence. He sounded mildly amused. Yes, that was a better description.

"I know not what you speak of, dearest brother, but I advise that you leave this room immediately if you do not wish to suffer my wrath."

"Oh? You mean to tell me that you have no knowledge of sending your servant girl to wake me up at an inconveniently early hour?"

"Absolutely not. I do apologize on her behalf if that poor girl did wake you up. She is still unaccustomed to these halls, and may have been lost."

Lisette had to stifle an indignant protest. _How unfair!_ her mind wailed. _I haven't been lost since four months ago! And that wasn't really my fault. Who knew that the kitchen door looked identical to Ecthelion's door? Oh well,_ she sighed. _At least the kitchen help took pity on me, and gave me some food._

"Lost? An interesting theory, considering that the girl knew about the book I borrowed from you, then."

"Silly brother. Do you think that you are the only one I lend my books to?"

"And what of the fact that she knew about a certain council? A certain _non-existent_ council, no less. I do not think that she would dare fabricate such things herself."

"Of course not. But is it not inconceivable that she misheard me?"

"Please, Mírwen. I am no longer a four-year-old boy."

"Oh, very well. But you must admit, you have no one to blame but yourself for being so absent-minded of late. I simply sent you a little reminder."

"A costly little reminder! I had to relinquish a rather valuable book of poetry to keep the servant girl quiet."

Outside the room, Lisette's eyes widened. So _that's_ why he gave her that book. He was bribing her! And much to her embarrassment, it had worked, too.

"Again, Denethor, your own fault. If you were not so worried about having your reputation of perfect punctuality ruined, the encounter would have cost you nothing."

"You do realize that this occasion calls for revenge, yes?"

"I look forward to it."

"Good."

With that, the door opened, and Lisette found herself knocked to the floor.

"You again?" Denethor gave an exasperated sigh as he looked at her, and shook his head. "Do not ask me for more books, Nellas, for I have none to spare. Our guests from Rohan will be arriving tomorrow, though. Perhaps you can ask them instead."

Lisette managed a weak smile, and quickly scrambled off. _Note to self,_ she thought. _Work harder on eavesdropping skills._

Once safely in her room, she pondered her next move. One of the things hammered into her head while she was still in training for time travel was that she must keep a low profile. While she didn't need to worry about the death of a fly radically altering the future, her presence needed to be as unremarkable as possible. That meant not rousing the suspicions of the people around her.

So far, she'd been able to pretend that her cultural ignorance was due to her simple upbringing in Rohan. The arrival of the Rohirrim definitely meant trouble for her. She was relatively sure that she could speak their language properly, but what of their customs and traditions? Just to be safe, she'd best brush up on her knowledge of horses. And read more of that poetry book.

**To be continued...**


End file.
